


Silver Bullets Fly

by Write_Eat_Sleep_Repeat



Series: Teen Wolf Alternate Universes [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ...yet, Actual Murder, Alive Laura Hale, Alive Talia Hale, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Ash is a bit weird about her dad's death, Ashleigh cries so much, Attempted Murder, Bad Parenting, Bad Writing, Bruises, Chocolate and tears are a good idea, Crappy presents, Dysfunctional Family, Evil Plans, F/M, Family Drama, Gerard Argent is shit at gifting presents, Girls with Guns, Halsey songs though, I'm just crapping out tags now, Kate isn't that much of a bitch..., Lydia is a Good Friend, Lying to everyone, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, No one has a good family life, Non-Graphic Death mentioned in 1st chapter, Panic Attacks, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sort of a suicide note, Warning: Gerard Argent, You Have Been Warned, mental torment, original character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Write_Eat_Sleep_Repeat/pseuds/Write_Eat_Sleep_Repeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beacon Hills is one of the most active hubs for Mafia and mob life in America. There are loads of 'families', the most powerful and feared of which is the Argent family. The second largest, though not by a long shot, is the Canie family, lead by Paul Canie. One surprisingly normal day, Paul is found dead. There is only one person that Paul thought would be capable of handling his gang.<br/>His daughter Ashleigh.<br/>His 17 year old daughter, who can't even organize her pencil case.</p><p>Rated M because of the language. Literally, there's F-bombs from the start. Oh, and there's death. Quite a lot of death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first shot

**Author's Note:**

> I have no self-restraint so made a NEW Alternate Universe fic. I'll try my ultra hardest with my other two fics, but writer's block is a bitch. Like me *Insert Dan Howell 'eyyyy lmao'*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashleigh Canie's day starts out normal, until she comes home early.

Ashleigh pulled her beanie and glasses on before slipping her switchblade into her pocket as Paul always told her to. She grabbed her bag and put it on as she grabbed her headphones. Just as she was about to leave the house, her mom called to her "Don't forget to say goodbye to your dad."  
"OK!" She said, muttering a particular swear word rhymed with 'Fire Truck', turned and ran up two flights of stairs to Paul's office, knocking once "I'm goin to school now, see you later." There was no reply, as expected, and Ashleigh sprinted downstairs and outside to the car.  
"Ashleigh." The driver smiled when he saw her coming over.  
"Hey Joe." She smiled right back to him as she got into the car "Y'all right?"  
"Yea." Joe smiled "How's your Dad?"  
"Screwed if I know." Ashleigh shrugged "Locked himself in his room again." Joe laughed a bit as he started the car and pulled out from the driveway "Seriously, he does that more than I do." She had a tone that was only half joking.  
"He's busy." Joe checked there were no other cars before he drove from the gates, taking his dumb hat off when he was out of sight of the house. Ashleigh looked out of the window at the luxurious scenery outside, rolling the window down so that a blast of cold air hit her face.  
"Yea, I know." She sighed a bit, though not noticeably. The thing was, Joe was very good at reading Ashleigh, and he was brave enough to call the girl out on her shit.  
"It's not his fault." He said casually.  
"It is, Joe." Ashleigh said, not wanting this conversation again. Last time, she had forced him to stop the car (her knife may or may not have made a guest appearance) and walked to school. She didn't feel like walking to school today, or going to school today, or facing everyone at school today, or getting out of bed today, or doing anything but hiding in a blanket cocoon all day and never getting out ever again because she wasn't feeling alright. Joe could feel that sort of air around her so nodded and said nothing else about it.  
"What about you listen to your music, huh? Your Fall Out Boy crap'll get you in a good mood, right?" Ashleigh sighed a bit and nodded, feeling too shitty to jokingly berate Joe that Fall Out Boy is freaking awesome, shut up Joe you don't know anything **about** music.

Ashleigh did, after a few minutes of just listening to the wind outside, put her headphones on and put her favorite playlist on shuffle. The opening notes of 'Just One Yesterday' came through her headphones and she smiled softly. Joe listened as she quietly sang along, a fond smile on his face, and let her be until they were turning the corner to her school "Ash." He said, throwing a scrunched up paper ball at her when she didn't hear him. She looked at him and tugged her headphones off.  
"Yahs?" She asked.  
"We're there." Joe said. Ashleigh sighed and turned her music off, putting her headphones in her bag. She groaned as Joe drove through the gates, already wishing that school would end or...burn down or something "No such luck I'm afraid, Ashleigh. It's just as stable as always."  
"I said that out loud, didn't I?" Ashleigh asked, rubbing her eyes when Joe nodded "I'm sleepy, Joe. I wanna sleep."  
"Well, you can't stay in the car. I've got to drive your mom to the mall later, and then take your dad to his meeting."  
"The last thing mom needs is more clothes. And Paul can drive one of his, fucking, perfect conditions 'McLauren's that he doesn't let anyone even _look_ at."  
"Watch your language. And don't disrespect your dad like that."  
"Some dad he is." Ashleigh had changed her mind about not wanting to go to school so she grabbed her bag and got out of the car, not even bothering to say goodbye to Joe, and stormed into school. Joe sighed a bit and drove out of the school grounds.

* * *

The thing with Paul, Ashleigh's dad, is that he had less than no time for his family and the time he did have for them, he spent drunk out of his head and he was a mean drunk. Ashleigh hated Paul. She hated him with a passion for the bullshit he'd dragged her and her mom into. She was done with him and his fucking mafia-style bullcrap. Ashleigh couldn't even count the deaths Paul had caused with both her hands and her toes. Though why she'd try, she had no idea. Why do people count on their toes? Just keep track of how many times you've done 10 on your hands. Wait, crap, she's getting off topic. So yea. Paul, her mafia boss asshole of a father, was a huge dick to everyone. He'd allowed people in his mob to die, he'd killed a few people **and** he'd caused the Argent/Canie feud because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. There'd been 9 attempts on Paul's life in the past 2 months alone, and only 2 of them had been by Ashleigh, 4 by an Argent goon and 3 by some mob members who were pretty pissed with how Paul was treating them. Ashleigh had only tried to kill her dad those two times in a haze of anger and sadness and she hadn't really meant it. She'd gone at him with her switchblade the first time in a spur-of-the-moment thing and the second time she'd tried to shoot him with his own gun but didn't have the courage to pull the trigger. She'd broken down crying both times, but not because of Paul. It was her mom that broke her, her sobbing that Ashleigh can't ruin her life like that. It'd break her, that's what her mom told her. She was right. Ashleigh couldn't handle it at all, she couldn't even handle the **idea** of killing Paul, just for how her Mom would look at her afterwards. She'd do anything for her mom, even if it meant not killing her asshole of a father.  She couldn't stop anyone else from doing him in though.

She walked into her classroom and sat down with a small sigh, writing in a small notebook that she carried easily in her large pockets until Lydia came over and sat on the desk next to her "Hey." Lydia smiled.  
"Hey Lyd." Ashleigh said with less enthusiasm, not even bothering to hold a smile. Lydia's own smile fell.  
"Sweetie." She coo'd, wrapping her arms around Ashleigh's shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug "What's happened? Is it another 'accident'?" She asked. Ashleigh shook her head and allowed herself to enjoy the warmth of being enveloped in Lydia's arms. Lydia always gave great hugs, she was so nice to Ashleigh "Just feeling down?"  
"As down as an Angler fish." She mumbled.  
"What the hell is one of those?" Jackson asked as he sat next to Lydia, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.  
"Lives at the bottom of the sea, looks like it gets whacked with an iron rod every day."  
"Shit." Yea, shit. Anyway. Ash was getting hugs and love and...shit. She'll have to do work. Urgh "Can I have my girlfriend back yet?" Jackson asked.  
"No." Ash said grumpily. Lydia rolled her eyes fondly and kissed Ashleigh's head before moving away. Ashleigh whined and tried to move closer to get hugs again but only ended up falling off her desk, her legs flailing and hitting someone that was walking past her. Although her head was hurting like hell, she got up to see if she'd hurt the girl too badly "Ohmigod. I'm so sorry." She said, quickly picking the girl's things up for her and handing them to her. The girl looked half-amazed at how quickly she reacted, though her eyes drifted to the side of Ashleigh's head.  
"Your head is bleeding." She said. Ash put a hand to her head and then pulled it back and yep, blood, flowing from her head. Not, like, **flowing** as in in the way a river does, but there was blood in her hair because she hit her head on _something_ and now her head was bleeding.  
"I'm fine." She said, shrugging casually.  
"But..." The girl sighed "I'm Allison."  
"Ashleigh." Ash smiled "Sorry about, ya know, kicking you an' all."  
"It's fine." Allison smiled sweetly "I'll see you later Ashleigh."  
"Allison." Ashleigh sat back down and watched Allison leave.  
"Straight." Lydia said, making Ashleigh look at her with a confused look "She's straight."  
"I was not..." Ashleigh said with insult in her voice. Lydia's look made her shush "Can I not just indulge my eyes, Lydia? It's not like Jackson was looking the other way." Lydia turned to glare at Jackson and Ash smiled slightly. Mr Harris walked in the class and started the lesson but his voice wavered when  he saw Ashleigh.  
"Miss Canie, go to the nurse." He said with a sigh, making everyone look at Ashleigh. Ashleigh looked up in confusion and Mr Harris sighed again "Your head."  
"I'm fine..." Harris shot her a look and she nodded once, getting up and taking her bag with her to the nurse.

She stood outside the door and fretted. It wasn't like she was hurt. It didn't bother her, or hurt her at all, so it wasn't urgent. She didn't want to waste time...Her thoughts flew off when the door opened "Are you just going to stand outside all day or actually come in and get help?"  
"How..?" Ash started.  
"Harris didn't trust you to actually come here." She said, making Ash make an insulted face "I didn't trust you to walk in." Ash's face fell and she nodded in understanding "Let's get your head looked at." She smiled kindly and opened the door further for Ashleigh to walk in. The girl did, albeit hesitantly, and let herself be checked over "How did you get this?"  
"Whacked my head on the side of a table." She said quietly. Sherry rolled her eyes fondly and Ash relaxed a bit.  
"Clumsy." She said. Ash almost laughed, only almost. Sherry sighed and hugged her "Did you take your pills?" She asked.  
"I don't need them." Ashleigh said "I'm fine."  
"Ash..." Sherry said but Ashleigh curled up slightly and the woman stopped her sentence "Go home."  
"I can't. Mom won't..."  
"Please." Sherry said "I'll say it's because of your head."  
"I'll be fine. I've just got to get through class and I'll be fine." Ash said.  
"Please, Ash." Ashleigh sighed.  
"I can't. Paul..."  
"Can accept what he's done to you." Sherry moved away and cupped Ashleigh's face in her hands "You're not well." Ashleigh nodded softly and sighed.  
"OK." She said with a small voice "I'll go home."

* * *

Joe picked her up from school and they didn't speak at all during the drive home. Ashleigh's mom wasn't home, out with her friend, so she had to go and tell Paul that she was back. She knocked on his office door and it opened a bit "Dad?" She called out "Paul?" She asked, stepping in. She walked to his desk, down the long rows of random shit that he had in his office. Paul was slumped over in his chair, his head on the desk and looking very asleep "Paul." Ashleigh said as she walked over to him. When she got close enough, she saw blood dripping off the desk and pooling onto the floor. She grabbed Paul's shoulder when she was close enough and pulled him back so he was sat up. The man's head lolled to the side, his eyes glassy and totally lifeless. Ashleigh sighed heavily "You idiot." She said "Just had to do it, didn't you?" A soft laugh exited her mouth "IDIOT!" She pounded her fist against Paul's chest and ran her hand through her hair in exasperation. She got her phone out and speed-dialed the sheriff "Sheriff Stillinski? Yes, it's Ashleigh Canie. My dad's dead."


	2. The Consequences of being born into a mob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash gets shocking news.

Ashleigh sat down in her room while the police were in Paul's office, writing down in a notebook silently. There was a knock on her door and she closed the notebook, shoving it under her pillow before jumping off of her bed. She opened the door hesitantly and saw Sheriff Stilinski there "Hello Sheriff." She said with a nervous smile.  
"Hello Ash, you alright?" Ash nodded and moved aside so he could enter the room. The girl stood nervously near the door until the Sheriff gestured for her to sit down. She sat on the large purple chair that was across from John's, her hands clasped together on her knees and her legs crossed at her ankles nervously "Why aren't you at school?"  
"My head." She said, gesturing loosely to the wound. John silently asked for permission to check, which Ashleigh gave him, and then walked over "I was feeling fine, but Sherry said I should come home, just to make sure."  
"What did you do when you came home?" John asked as he sat back down.  
"Went straight to Paul's office."  
"Why?" John asked with a confused look "I thought that you would have just gone to your room."  
"I...I don't..." She said nervously "I don't know why, I just...Yea." She sighed, looking down.  
"It's fine. You don't need a reason." John smiled kindly "I'm not interrogating you like you're a suspect."  
"Just a witness." The girl said, making John nod once. Ashleigh didn't really mind. She'd been a witness before, to the murder of one of the gang members.

He was called Simon, and he was really sweet to Ash. He'd gotten shot outside of a shop when he'd gone to get some cereal for his kids, an Argent member had pulled the trigger, and Ash was inside the shop when it'd happened. It wasn't John who'd interviewed her, it was a kid called Parrish. He was nice enough, but Ash thought it seemed fake. But anyway.

Ashleigh sat nervously on her purple chair, her bare feet shifting across the plush carpeted floor nervously "I just walked in. I know I shouldn't have, because it's his office and I'm not allowed in his office at all." The girl started rambling nervously, but John allowed her to carry on in case anything useful spilled out of her mouth "But I just had this feeling, ya know, saying that I _should_ walk in and just talk to him. I was pretty mad at him anyways, but I wasn't going to have a go at him or anything, I was just going to talk to him or whatever. It was just like this thing in the back of my head telling me that I should at least tell him I was home, so he didn't get a nasty shock." She shrugged and carried on yammering on "And I just saw him there, practically lay on his desk, and I just knew he was dead. Before I even looked at him properly, I knew he was dead." The girl seemed done, so John carried on with his little interrogation.  
"Did you move him?" He asked. Ashleigh sighed heavily, taking her beanie off and running her hand through her short hair. Not for the first time, she wondered why she'd let her mom cut it this short, but there was more important things to think about. One of them being the corpse of Paul, slowly going through Rigor Mortis while his office was being poked at by cops (how he'd seethe at the thought of it. If he was buried then she'd think he was rolling in his grave.). And another being the Sheriff right in front of her, waiting for a reply.  
"I know I shouldn't have," She said, seeing John's face fall a bit at the statement "But I just...I wanted to check. Because, I knew but I didn't **know** and I needed to check." John had a thoughtful look on his face and, frankly, it scared Ashleigh half to death with the nerves of what he'd ask her.  
"Are you sad that Paul's dead?" He asked. Ashleigh barked out a laugh at the sudden and unexpected question but then thought a bit. He was her dad, her mom would be heartbroken, the gang would go to shit and probably join other gangs and she didn't want to deal with that because she'd known most of these guys since she was a child . But was she truly upset that he was dead?  
"To some degree." She finally answered, making John nod slowly. He knew she hadn't been crying and he hadn't expected her to. He expected her to probably never cry about it. She cried so much when Simon had died, but that was because he was close to her. Paul and Ash were never as close as Ash was to some of the mob members, so she wasn't expected to cry, not by anyone who knew them.

There was a knock on the door that made Ashleigh jump suddenly. John turned his head "Come in." He said as he stood up. The door opened slowly and one of the cops, Vanessa, walked in "Found anything?"  
"This, in his bottom drawer in the bedroom." She held out an envelope and John took it. He looked at it and turned to Ashleigh.  
"Seems it's for you, Ash." John said, handing it to the confused girl before looking back to Vanessa "Was it a gang kill?"  
"No sir." Vanessa said with a small sigh, her eyes not truly leaving the teenage girl sat on the purple chair "Nothing to suggest anything other than suicide." The officers carried on talking in the doorway but Ashleigh didn't listen to them at all. She was turning the envelope in her hand in an utter state of confusion. Why would Paul leave her a letter? To anyone else it would seem obvious but if you knew Paul as closely, even though they weren't close if you understand, as Ashleigh did then it'd be clear why she was confused. After going through a trillion and one ideas, none of which were positive in the slightest, she opened the envelope and took the letter from inside carefully like it was a bomb, the last parting gift of Paul to kill her.

 _Ashleigh._  
_I know, sadly, we haven't ever been close and I know you must hate me for an infinate number of reasons that you could list so easily right now, and any time anyone asked you to, but I need you to be my daughter and not my enemy, just this once. As you know, the war between us and the Argents has gone on since you were a small child and many of our men have died because of this along with many of the Argents. I can't be here, leading this gang, for any longer than I have done because I know that it will kill me at either my hand or the hand of an Argent so I need someone to take over. Your mother is a sensitive soul and I won't be able to trust her with something as valuable as this, something I've spent a large chuck of my adulthood on, because she wouldn't be able to deal with this responsibility of doing what I do, and it isn't a tradition to pass a legacy onto your partner. I desperately need someone to carry on the fighting against the Argents, because they can't win. I need someone I know will be able to do it and who can carry on with this for longer than I have._  
_You._  
_I want you to lead our mob, Ashleigh, and make it so that we win against the Argents once and for all. I know that you can do it because I believe in you, even if you never thought I did. I love you, Ashleigh._  
From, Dad.

And it ended there. Ashleigh was frozen, terrified. She can't handle the mob. She'd be target Number One to every Argent goon in Beacon Hills. Wanted: The head of Ashleigh Canie on a fucking golden plate, Reward: Eternal praise from the Argent Bastards and your weight worth in cash times'd by at least 12. Paul was a fucking gun-slinging coldhearted master, Ashleigh can't pull the trigger at a teddy bear, let alone a living, breathing person with actual human emotions and a life that she'd have to take...She was dead. She was dead before she'd even began and the mob was going to go to shit in a day and even though she never cared before she didn't want to have the spirit of Paul constantly berating her for giving up, like a spineless coward, nothing better than Jake, and we all remember what happened to him. She couldn't deal with this. She knew how stressed Paul got sometimes and she can't deal with the stress of picking out a beanie in the morning, let alone running a whole mob of people who are relying on her to keep them alive and pay them so that their families are well looked after as well. She'd have to rule over a fucking **mob** , a bunch of criminals, along with school and homework and all of her school friends already know about Paul being a mob leader and what would they think about **her** being the new leader? She couldn't deal with that. She couldn't do it. She couldn't...

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe, her heart was thumping like a war-drum against the bone safety of her rib cage, her lips were tying to take in breath that her lungs refused to hold for even half a second. She slid from her chair and curled up, her head on her knees and her breaths laboring as she tried so desperately to calm down. She could only hear a whoosh of air and nothing else, not even hearing Sheriff Stilinski coming over and trying to talk to her. She felt his hands place heavily on her legs and try to get her attention. He tilted her head up and, even behind her glasses, her vision was blurred by nothing so all she saw was colors. She tried desperately to hear what he was saying but she was slipping away. She fell to her side and entered the familiar and warm darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

Meanwhile, Gerard Argent had just gotten the news that Paul Canie was dead, shot in the head in his office and found by his daughter after she came home early. A wicked smile spread across his features and he started counting the hours until the Canie gang fell apart and joined him. After all, what gang can be led by a child with a mental disorder?


	3. My mind is like a broken mirror...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift from Argent sets Ash on a rocky path to ruining her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am...so sorry for the delay. I've had writer's block and a load of other fics to try and do, and school stuff happened, and I'm just a huge procrastinator and...*exhale* yea. I'm sorry.  
> So, how's everyone enjoying it so far? I hope you like it :)

Ashleigh came to after maybe ten minutes to see that there were two paramedics trying to help her while John and Vanessa stood nervously at the doorway. When she tried to sit up, the paramedics started to advise her against it but she just brushed their hands away "I'm fine." She assured them as she sat up.  
"Ash." John said worriedly as he walked over and crouched next to her.  
"I'm fine, Sherriff." Ash urged with a sigh.  
"You had an attack." He glared like a concerned parent.  
"Normal Tuesday."  
"It's Friday." Ash looked at the man with a bitchface.  
"Late Tuesday." She sassed and then stood up on slightly shaky legs. There was a knock on the door and Ashleigh sighed, her bedroom was getting crowded as it was.  
"Come in!" John called and the door opened, another officer looking in "Yes?"  
"Someone wants to see Ashleigh." Then he moved aside and Ashleigh's face paled when she saw Gerard Argent step in.  
"Mr Argent." She said civilly, though she was scared shitless "W-Why are you here?"  
"I heard the sad news and I wanted to see how you were. I know what it's like to lose a parent as a teen." The old man smiled kindly and Ash stayed stiff, not trusting this kind old man exterior. Gerard saw that she was still shaking from her panic attack and a worried frown crossed his face as he put a box down on her bed, walked over and took her right hand in both of his "Are you ok, Ashleigh?"  
"Y-Yea." Ash stuttered, her breathing slightly deeper in fear and panic at the contact "I just...I had a panic attack. I'm fine now." She laughed nervously and shrugged it off. Gerard, after looking at her with pretty convincing worry for a second or two, smiled and patted the top of Ashleigh's hand.  
"As long as you're ok. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you, especially now." Gerard said and Ash saw a slight glint in his eye which wasn't really of the nice variety. John seemed to see it, or at least thought something was up, because he stepped forwards.  
"It's nice of you to check on her, Mr Argent, but I really need to get back to questioning her." The man said and Gerard smiled.  
"Of course." Then he looked back to Ashleigh "I'll see you later Ashleigh." Ash smiled politely at him and sighed shakily when Gerard left. She turned and looked at John with a smile.  
"Thank you, for saving me from Argent." The teen muttered and then went to her bed, picking up the small box that Argent had placed on it.  
"Why are you scared of him?" John asked, to which Ash replied to with a shrug.  
"Since before I can remember, Chris and Gerard Argent have been the enemy." John looked slightly confused and Ashleigh sighed softly "You know what my dad did, Sheriff, so you know why he brought me up to be afraid of them and to hate them." John nodded in understanding, gesturing for everyone to leave. Sure, it wasn't a secret that Paul Canie was a mob leader -everyone in the Sheriff's department could tell a different story about his mob activity- but it was still a sensitive subject and Ashleigh refused to talk about it with more than two people present.  
"So, now that Paul's dead, what happens to the mob?" He asked when Vanessa closed the door behind her. Ashleigh almost flinched at the mere mention of it.  
"Well...They'll probably break apart, go to Argent or Hale." She shrugged, internally pleased at herself for her lie.  
"Didn't Paul ask you to lead them?" Ash, just momentarily, thought he'd read the letter but then she realised he was just using his common sense -many people would have thought Paul would ask her to lead it. She scoffed a bit, just quietly with her head bowed to look at the orange box in her hand.  
"Paul didn't trust me to lead him to the front door from the driveway." John's eyes widened a bit at the distrust the deceased man had towards his own flesh and blood, because he could never imagine himself distrusting Stiles that much "Why would he trust me leading his mob, which he spent decades trying to strengthen?" The sheriff nodded a bit in understanding.  
"I just wouldn't want a kid like you strung in with all this, more than you already are." He smiled, just like Ash had once wished Paul had done, and Ash smiled weakly back before nervously looking back to her box "What's that?"  
"Dunno." Ashleigh muttered, shrugging as well and messing with the small bow that Gerard had tied around it "From Argent, so my instant reaction is that it's a...bomb."  
"You really think that Gerard would kill you with a bomb?" John asked with a small laugh and Ashleigh shook her head slowly, looking at the box with slight confusion.  
"No. He's not that sloppy." She mumbled "He's smarter than that." The teen looked suspiciously at the box for a few seconds before looking at John with a small smile "Maybe Paul was wrong about him." She sighed and put the box back down on her bed.  
“Ash. I know this’ll sound…ridiculous, but is there any reason that your dad would kill himself?” Ashleigh shook her head instantly.  
“He loved the mob, loved this house, loved everything about his life. He’d never kill himself.” Then she looked to her hands “Not with that gun.” She mumbled and then John gave her a confused look “He can’t properly handle it, it’s too awkward. Too light, he wouldn't feel comfortable with it. He has his own special one which he can handle perfectly.”  
“You think he was murdered?” Ash looked up at him and smiled ever so slightly.  
“You think he _wasn’t_?” She asked with a small laugh and then looked back to her hands “I’m…Sorry I can’t be of any use to you, sir.”  
“It’s fine, Ash.” John smiled and then gave the girl a soft hug “I’ll speak to you later.”  
“Bye Sherriff.” Then he left her in her room, leaving her stood next to her bed.

When she was sure no-one would walk in, she grabbed the box that Gerard had gifted to her and then tugged the ribbon off quickly. Very carefully and particularly, she took the paper off and then put it down on her bedside table. The box was small, just a bit longer than her hand, and she took the lid off slowly. When she saw the contents she threw the lid onto her bed with a slightly slack jaw, reaching in to take her father's gun from the delicately padded box. There was a small slip of off-white card in with it so the teen put the box on the bed, taking the card out to read.

 _Don’t try and be brave now, Ashleigh._  
_You can’t win against us_

With a slight glare, she checked that the pistol was loaded –fully, other than one bullet missing which was probably in Paul's head- and then threw the card aside and went to her dresser. She pulled the bottom drawer open and moved everything out of it, lifting the fake bottom out of it, and then took one of the many leather holsters which were mixed in with guns and ammo boxes. The holster was put on around her thigh, high up where her baggy hoodies and occasional skirts would hide it, and then the gun was put in it. She picked up her father's letter and scruffily shoved it into the hidden drawer before she closed the drawer roughly. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing her beanie out of the way with the action, and then sat down on her bed to wait it out.

* * *

It turns out she didn’t have to wait for long. When news spread around -like wildfire in a place like Beacon Hills- that the Canie Mob leader was dead by suicide, the whole mob came over to the large house and stood in Paul’s extravagant meeting room as instructed by a mass text from Alice. Alice, Paul’s widow, always texted the mob so it wasn’t strange for her to text them with the directive to go to the meeting hall.

They waited for about five minutes until they were sure everyone was there and then the door at the very front of the room opened and Ashleigh stepped in. No-one in the mob had seen Ashleigh like that, with a gun strapped to her thigh and a stoic yet terrified look at the people she’d grown up around, and they were scared for her because they knew what this meant “Hello.” Ashleigh said meekly when she spoke into the microphone that Paul insisted had to be there. The sound of her voice shocked her at how scared and timid she sounded, so she cleared her throat and tried again “I know you’ve all heard that Paul is dead, I know it’s a shock to you how it’s reported to have happened.” A soft sniffling sob came from the side of the room, from Alice, and Ashleigh gestured for Ana King to comfort her. Ana had been a sort of carer of Ashleigh since the child was 5, and she always seemed to be able to soothe anyone through any problem that they had “But I can assure you that he didn’t die how they say he did.” Everyone started muttering to each other and Ashleigh exhaled slowly before taking Paul’s gun from her holster and raising it up “This is a gun you all recognise. You may have been threatened by it, you may have seen others be threatened by it, you may have seen people die by it, but we all know this gun. This was not found at the scene of our leader’s death or even in his office or his room, but in a box given to me by Gerard Argent.” Angry calls came from the large crowd and Ashleigh clenched her free hand into a fist “Gerard Argent wants a war from us, he wants to break us all apart so he can become stronger, but he underestimates me.” The lies coming from her mouth pained her but she couldn’t stand to tell the truth of it all to these people that she had thought of as a family and she had to look like she went out fighting for her family’s ‘honour’, what little was left of it after Paul had dragged the name through every mud puddle in the world. There used to be a time when Canie was a name of wealth and care, after the legacy of Ash’s Grandparents’ many ventures in business, but then Paul was born and grew up with a spoilt personality, seeming need for violence and leadership and eventual alcoholism that tarnished the whole family “We’re going to fight back against the Argents, and we’re going to win.” There were a few scattered cheers which eventually grew to most of the mob cheering. The only ones who didn’t were the ones who knew Ashleigh better than that and knew she was lying through her teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me, or is Ash digging her own grave here? Plus, all this in one day?! Crap on a cracker, she's got it bad.


	4. ...You can always see the cracks no matter how much you try to fix it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia gets ready to comfort her best friend while Alison finds out more about her grandfather's sadistic plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ashie-boo. I just have to have her fucked up in all fics that include her. I'm going to make it up to her eventually. Maybe get her drunk, or laid. I think she'd like getting laid.

During Lunch, Lydia’s phone vibrated in her pocket and she subtly moved away to answer it “Hey Ash, you feelin’ bet-” She started but Ashleigh’s sobs cut her off “Honey, what’s wrong?”  
_“I made a huge mistake, Lyd.”_ She cried like a child, making Lydia’s heart twist to the point it would have broken if this wasn't a scarily regular occurrence _“I fucked up so bad and I’m so sorry.”_  
“You don’t have to be sorry, hon. Do you want me to come over?”  
_“N-No. You stay in school. I just…I’m just so sorry, Lydia.”_ Lydia sighed a bit, full of pity, and closed her eyes.  
“Tell me what happened.” She asked and Ashleigh exhaled shakily to calm herself down before speaking.  
_“Paul’s dead.”_ Lydia gasped and covered her mouth _“And I’m…I’m in control of the Family.”_  
“Ashleigh.” Lydia sighed, covering her face “My god, I’m so sorry.”  
_“There’s nothing that you could have done, so there’s no reason for you to apologise.”_ She muttered and then there was a noise from her line and her voice grew quitter as she moved away from the phone _“Oliver, I’m fine. Go home now.”_  
“Want me to come over  after school?” Lydia said after a second, when she was sure Oliver had left and Ash was listening.  
_“Yes please. Can you bring Jackson and chocolate?”_  
“You want Jackson?” Ash made a ‘mhm’ noise and then there was a noise like her lying on her bed “Ok. I’ll bring him over and we'll talk."  
_"Do we have to talk?"_ Lydia rolled her eyes.  
"What else could we do?"  
_"Eat chocolate and cry."_ Ash muttered pathetically.  
"Ash." Lydia said in a warning tone "It won't get any better if you avoid it."  
_"You don't have to cry. Me an' Jackson'll cry enough for ya."_ Lydia chuckled slightly.  
"I'll be 'round in a few."  
_"Wuv you Widdie."_ Ashleigh said in a baby voice, which was just her way.  
"Wuv you too Ashie." And, hesitantly, the red-head hung up and texted Jackson their plans. It didn't matter that he had lacrosse practice, he was the captain and he did so much extra practice that he could afford missing one day.

* * *

Ashleigh, the second that Lydia had hung up, curled herself up on her bed and just looked at the gun that she'd put on the pillow next to her. Paul's gun. So many had fallen on their knees to beg in front of that gun, so many more hadn't and had suffered the consequences. The ratio of dead to alive wasn't something a moralistic and compassionate human being, a decent human being, would be proud of but Paul was **not** a decent human being. A decent human being wouldn't beat his partner to the point of unconsciousness, or ridicule his daughter's mental disorder, or alienate his family, or do _anything_ that Paul had done during his too-long cut short lifetime.

Her mom was still crying in the room beside her, making the teen close her eyes tightly. This is why she never killed Paul before -that and she's a fucking pussy. Her mom would be heartbroken and unable to handle it, would probably kill herself, and Ashleigh would feel like it was her fault. That's another point where the Canies fell apart. Alice valued Paul more than she valued Ashleigh. If Paul left the house because Ash had disrespected him, Alice always said she'd get rid of Ash to keep Paul in her life. Ashleigh had spent most of her childhood being ignored by the two people who were meant to love her more than anything. She wiped her eyes, refusing to allow herself tears over the curse that was Paul Canie's greed and manipulation, and tried to focus on better things, such as Lydia and Jackson coming over later. The two of them, even though Jackson was sometimes a bit of a douche, almost always made her feel better. There were times, sure, where she hated being around anyone at all so she didn’t even want to look at them but other than those times they were her only form of happiness. Which sounds sad, because it is sad, because Ashleigh is always sad. Wow, that got really deep real quick, she needs chocolate. Or maybe she needed...Her eyes wandered to the nightstand and she cursed at it in Chinese before turning away in disgust. Whatever shit They thought she needed, she didn't need it. She was fine. Maybe a bit...Unstable, but that'd go away in a few minutes if she just didn't get too worked up. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. Too much drama in one day; she had to slow it down slightly. That's what Lydia and Jackson were for, they'd calm her down. Well, they might, but only if Lydia didn’t have any sudden drama with Jackson in 4 hours. Which had happened once or twice. By once or twice I mean maybe a couple of hundred times. Turning back to her nightstand, she grabbed her phone and turned away again while pulling her headphones out from under her pillow. One good thing about having shit-rich parents? Endless amounts of technology to make up for the shit that they’ve put you through. She had five pairs of headphones and earbuds scattered around her usual places in the house so she was never without her music. She plugged her earbuds into her phone and then put them in her ears while choosing a song _“He says ’ooh baby girl, you know we’re gonna be legends. I’m the king and you’re the queen and we will stumble through heaven.”_ She closed her eyes and started relaxing as the music flowed across her body to massage all her muscles. The second song relaxed her further. The third relaxed her to her limit, which means she was still quite tense but not tense enough to jump at even a cold breeze.

* * *

Allison walked out of school and waited until her Dad pulled up to the front of the school to pick her up “Hey Dad.” She smiled and hugged him as she threw her bag into the back of the car.  
“How was school?” He asked and Allison shrugged a bit.  
“Fine. Nothing much happened.” Her dad took her arm and frowned at the forming bruise that was there. Allison looked at it and sighed, pulling her arm from her dad’s grip “That’s nothing.”  
“Looks like a bruise.” He said and Allison sighed.  
“Someone kicked me, accidently, when they fell off their chair.”  
“Oh.” Chris said, a small frown still on his face even though he accepted the explanation “I hope they apologised.”  
“Profusely.” Allison sighed “Any news from you, Dad?” She asked sweetly and Chris nodded a bit.  
“Your Aunt Kate’s come to stay for a bit.” He said and Allison pouted in confusion.  
“Any occasion?” She asked and Chris shook his head.  
“She just missed us, I guess.” Allison looked dubiously at her Dad but he didn't say anything.

Allison didn’t ask any more questions about it and the journey to their large home was filled with just talking about school and what homework Allison had and if she needed help. There was only one thing strange as they pulled up into the driveway. Allison’s granddad was stood at the door waiting for them with a huge smile on his face “Allison!” He said happily as though he hadn’t seen her for days, hugging her tightly.  
“What’s happened?” Allison asked because it was surreal for Gerard to be that happy any time of any day.  
“Nothing. Nothing that you need to know.” Gerard said and then looked at his son. Allison looked as well, to see if her Dad could tell by Gerard’s face what had gotten him so happy, and saw that Chris looked like he’d just heard the worst news in the world.  
“What is it?” Allison asked and Chris shook his head.  
“Go and do your homework.” He said and, after a stern look to Allison when she didn’t do as he asked, the girl hurried into the house with her bag and ran up the many flights of stairs to go to her bedroom “Please tell me you didn’t.” Chris said the second that the front door closed. Gerard nodded and Chris sighed “We’ll never end this feud if you carry on killing Canie’s memb-”  
“-Paul Canie is dead.” Chris was stunned into silence. After all those years, since Allison was only little, Gerard had finally targeted Paul directly? He’d never dared, instead wanted to kill off members one by one until Canie gave up out of sheer grief. He’d only recently realised that it wouldn't work and that Paul was a sociopath, since the day Victoria had found Paul’s daughter walking down the streets at midnight with a bloodied nose and black eye with the honest reason of the fact that she’d gotten in the middle of a fight between Paul and Alice that got her punched and Alice unconscious.  
“Dead?” Chris asked quietly in disbelief “How?”  
“Shot in the head. Suicide.” Chris knew that was a lie. Paul Canie would never abandon his mob, ever.  
“Kate.” He sighed and Gerard smirked “You got Kate to kill him? So, that’s it? The war’s over, the gang’s fallen?”  
“Not so fast.” Gerard said “There’s still his successor to take care of.”  
“What?” Chris mumbled "Who?"  
“His child.” Chris’ jaw dropped. His child was just that, a child. Mentally unstable and emotionally vacant 70% of the time. Just a bit younger than Allison. A little girl. Chris had seen her a few times as he picked Allison up. She hung around Lydia Martin and was always so chirpy that it was almost unnatural. But when you're a mob leader, your whole life is public, including hospital notes diagnosing your daughter with extreme depression and anxiety and even potential auditory and visual hallucinations, therefore showing her chirpiness **was** unnatural. Totally unstable, and forcing herself to be emotionally vacant even if she didn't physically look like she was being vacant. Maybe, Chris thought, that was his father's plan. Kill Canie, break the child, take the mob. It would be almost effortless, since Ashleigh was close to breaking point anyway.  
"Dad, you can't be serious." The younger of them said with slight anger "She's a kid, she's still in school."  
"So therefore she can't handle the mob." Gerard started walking back into the house and Chris followed after him, closing the door behind him roughly.  
"You're going to make her snap, she's going to kill herself."  
"She's been building up to it since she was 8."  
"Do you have no conscience?" Chris said confusedly "Imagine if Canie and me swapped places, and it was Allison in Ashleigh's place."  
"I'd help her, no matter what." Gerard said as he stopped in the middle of the entrance hall and turned to Chris.  
"And Ashleigh has no-one to help her."  
"That's none of my business." The elder monotoned and Chris actually started looking angry.  
"You killed her dad, I'd say it's at least partially your business."  
"She was fine when I visited her." Chris looked at his father in confusion "I went over to the Canie house to see her and give her a gift." Chris sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration.  
"Why do I get the feeling you don't mean a box of chocolates and a condolence note?"

Allison had heard the door close and the raised voices of her dad and granddad so she hurried out of her room silently to see what was happening. Just before she was able to make out enough of the conversation, she heard a door close beside her so turned her head and smiled widely when she saw her Aunt Kate "Ali." Kate grinned and hugged Allison tightly, making a gesture behind Allison's back for Chris and their father to go off and talk about it elsewhere "I missed you so much."  
"Where've you been?"  
"Where haven't I been?" Kate laughed softly and Allison sighed “What’s wrong?” The elder asked.  
“I think Granddad did something with the Canies again.” Kate sighed and looked down to where her brother and father had been talking.  
“You shouldn’t worry about the Canies, Ali. All this, is nothing to do with you and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”  
“I live here, so it has to have something to do with me if I’m in danger of a Canie member coming here and trying to kill someone.” Kate almost groaned and instead just pulled Allison onto her bedroom.  
“I need to tell you something secret.” Kate said and sat on her bed with Allison in front of her “You have to promise not to tell anyone I told you this.”  
“I promise.” Allison said and Kate sighed ever so slightly. Then she proceeded to tell Allison the plan, Gerard’s plan to take the Canie mob. It wasn’t nice at all. So many people had to die, some directly by the Argents and some consiquently due to the actions. Ashleigh Canie had to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished it. My god. I literally finished it today and almost cried. Praise Jeebus


	5. It can't get any worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles helps John with the investigation and Talia makes a decision that will change her son's view of the Canie child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is finally a new day. A new day for Drama to happen, because WTFN? Anyway, with nothing intelligent to say, Let'sa go!

Alice didn't want to wake up. I mean, she was obviously awake but she didn't want to be. Her bed felt cold without Paul, not that he really stayed in it much anyway but that's beside the point, and she didn't feel complete without her partner of so many years. She was empty, though she did as best she could to hide it if someone came over. When a police officer, a nice enough woman, had questioned her about what had happened the few days before, Alice had told the entire truth; she'd hardly been in the house at all and had instead been shopping or out with her friends for hours on end, Paul was busy with a large project for his gang as usual while also occasionally going out with Alice at night, who the fuck knows what Ashleigh was doing, and the staff in the house did the usual things with no interruption other than Paul getting stressed and narrowly missing shooting one of the cleaners when she wrongly went into his room. That was just what life was like in the Canie Mansion, and it's not like Alice wanted it to change any time soon because she saw it as perfectly fine and normal. Others may not. They may see it as an unhealthy way for a family to live, especially since it had been like that since Ashleigh was very young. People had seen her parenting methods and had criticised her because she was going to be raising a perfect sociopath with her methods, she was leaving baby Ashleigh with too many people and not looking after her on her own, she had to breastfeed her and not just stick her on bottles because breastfeeding not only helps a baby but gives a bond between baby and mother, she should figure out what's making her cry rather than making someone else deal with it, she shouldn’t shout at little Ashleigh for things that she can’t help. All things considered, Alice actually thought she'd done well raising Ash. After all, she was a 17 year old who had been knocked up by a 20-odd year old. She was just happy that she hadn't miscarried, like with her first pregnancy.

Anyway. She'd loved Paul for years, even when she was only 14, and all she wanted was his child so that they could be together forever and be happy and have a family. Surprisingly, his parents were against the relationship because of Paul and not because they disapproved of Alice. They said that she was too good for him, but she didn't see that. Paul was all she wanted, he had everything that you could ask for; he was financially stable, he was a leader of his own 'business', he was sure of what he wanted, he was attractive, he was charming, independent, able to give her a good life and home and willing to love her. Now he was gone, and she had nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.

* * *

It didn't add up. There was nothing to suggest that it wasn't a suicide, but then again there were the things that people had said about Paul and just something about the entire scene that made it feel like a murder. Let's go over it again. Paul Canie, found not too long after 10 am by his teenage daughter, shot in the head with a Walther PK380 that had been found on the scene right beside him on the floor. That morning, his daughter Ashleigh had said goodbye to him before leaving for school but he didn't answer her, probably too busy with his work. He'd been seen by his long time fiancée Alice just before she left to go out with her friends at about 9:20, with plans for himself to go to a meeting with a fellow gang leader a few hours later. That was the last anyone saw of him before he was found. His desk had a folder with plans of what was going to be discussed during the meeting, as well as notes around it on what mafia activity he was planning to do. In his office, there were many folders full of previous activities and meetings and information on past and present gang members of both his gang and rival or allied gangs. Nothing was taken, judging by the inventory he kept. He'd been shot in the temple at an angle that would suggest that it was self-inflicted, powder and residue found on his fingers and his fingerprints on the gun. They were waiting on a ballistics report to see if it really was that gun that had been fired. The people closest to Paul -a few gang members, his fiancée, his daughter and his best friend (they were waiting for a chance to speak to his parents)- had said that it wasn't impossible for him to have done it but it was extremely unlikely because of his Family. Not his biological family, but his mob/gang/whatever. There was no sign of a break-in or struggle, no staff in the house at that time so no-one to hear the gunshot. There was almost 100% probability of it being ruled suicide, if the report came back with a definite match on the indents on the bullet. But there was just this air around the crime scene. It was too perfect. It seemed almost staged, like on a TV show but by someone who wanted it to seem real while also seeming dramatized. Maybe for the police, to taunt them, but that was too much like a stereotypical serial killer move so maybe it was for someone else. But who could it have been staged for? Alice wouldn't have been home, by her own admission, until at least 5am and Ashleigh was planning on a full day at school, while the cleaners didn't come in on Fridays because there was too much going on for the Canies. Maybe someone would be sent to check on Paul if he didn't turn up to the meeting? Or maybe it was really suicide and Paul was hiding yet another drastic part of his life from everyone around him. As to not seem weak, and hopeless. Paul hated failures.

"This one too much for you?" Stiles asked as he walked over to his dad, handing him a cup of coffee. John smiled his thanks before sighing and nodding a bit while looking over the reports and the pictures again, his head in his hands "What is it?" John gave him a look. He shouldn't really be showing these to his teenage son, shouldn't really be doing this where Stiles could maybe see it, but Stiles did this quite a lot and just sharing it with someone had helped him solve things a few times (plus, it wasn't like Stiles was going to report it back to anyone but Scott, who didn't have enough interest in that sort of thing to tell anyone else).  
"Canie mob leader, Paul Canie, shot in the head in his office." John said as he sat back and allowed his son to take a few documents and pictures that he wanted "Possible suicide, but people around him don't believe that it is."  
"Who found him?" Stiles asked as he read through Paul’s basic background.  
"Um, his daughter. Ashleigh was sent home with a head wound from school and found Paul after she went to tell him that she was home." Stiles pouted a bit and looked at his dad.  
"Only ones in the house?" Stiles asked and John nodded "Does she have a motive?" John frowned.  
"You think she might have done it?" He asked and Stiles shrugged.  
"Thinkin' about all angles." The man nodded his understanding, thankful he'd involved his son because he'd never have thought about that possibility.  
"Well, Paul was abusive to his fiancée _and_ to his daughter. She's got mental disorders, prescribed pills but doesn't take them. Paul's called in a few times, trying to have her arrested for attacking him." Stiles' eyebrows rose.  
"Any proof that she did?" He asked, putting the paper down and resting his elbows on the table like his dad was.  
"She freely admits to it. Says it was to protect her mom, and that she's threatened to kill him for hurting them. Doesn't care, really, even about his death." Stiles exhaled slowly.  
"She ever arrested?" John nodded and got Ashleigh's criminal record, he'd just picked up all the documents relating to 'Canie' that he could. Stiles was about to read through it but then saw the picture "Hey, I know her." He said with a soft pout of confusion "She's in my economics and chem classes."  
"Really?" John asked. He'd known that Ash and Stiles were the same age, but there were a lot of classes in that school so he didn't really expect Stiles to know her so easily by her appearance.  
"Yea. She got sent off to the nurse in chemistry cos she fell off her chair and hit her head." He pouted and bit and made a 'hmm' noise "Never expected her to be the kid of a mafia leader."  
"You'd be surprised how many kids in your school are connected to mafia gangs." John mumbled and Stiles looked at him with a slightly intrigued look but his father just shook his head "None of your business. Anyway, let's get on with this." Stiles nodded and then read through the criminal record for Ashleigh. It wasn't really much, but they were kind of extreme. Assault with a deadly weapon multiple times towards Paul, possession of a deadly weapon -namely a pocket knife and one time a gun- multiple times, one count of arson, endangerment of lives -which hadn't really been her fault. All in all, most of it was Paul's fault and it seemed he'd ruined her. With each word he read, Stiles seemed more shocked that such a timid girl could be capable of even half the things that she'd both admitted to and been arrested for. Normally 'It's always the quiet ones' only goes for stuff like partying and sex, but it seemed that this quiet one was violent and brutal.  
"Wow." He muttered and John nodded.  
"Yep." The man sighed and then took the paper from his son and put it on the pile of Ashleigh's documents.  
"She really needs a better dad, huh?" Stiles laughed slightly awkwardly, full of pity towards the girl. John knew that, if she knew he’d done that, Ashleigh would hate him.  
"She doesn't even call him dad. She calls him Paul." That made Stiles' heart break. Since his mom died, he couldn't imagine ever hating his dad or ever wanting to hurt him so there was no way that he could believe someone would hate the man who helped make them so much that they'd call him by his first name. Whatever Paul was like, which didn't seem anything positive, he'd have to be the worst person ever to make his own child hate him. At least, that was Stiles' approach to it. He just hoped that Ashleigh, who he didn't really know much, had someone there that she could talk to or just stay with.  


* * *

Lydia woke up slowly and sighed when she felt arms tighten around her just as she was about to get up "I've got to get up, honey." She said softly but the arms didn't let up "I need the toilet." Then, begrudgingly, Ashleigh let go of her best friend and curled up with a small frown "I'll be right back." She promised and then got up and went to the en suite, the door for which was right beside the door to get into/out of Ash's room. After doing her business and brushing her teeth, Lydia entered the room again and saw Ash had somehow managed to get a pillow from underneath Jackson's head to hug that instead. It was fine if she'd hugged Jackson, because Lydia knew and trusted Ash enough to let the brunette hug her boyfriend without Lydia thinking anything funny was going on, and it wasn't like they weren't close but Ash was always paranoid that she was going to make Lydia freak out and hate her. Ashleigh just worked like that. All three of them had slept in the same bed, Lydia in the middle of Ash and Jackson, after Lydia didn't want to leave Ashleigh alone in her vulnerable state. She'd already been left alone for too long, with Alice fucking off to have a pity party elsewhere after the Mafia meeting and Ana having to leave because she had to pick her husband up from work, so Lydia was not letting her best friend be alone after such a tragedy. No matter how much Ashleigh said that she was fine, it's not like she cared about Paul anyway, Lydia just didn't feel like it was a good move to let Ashleigh deal with it alone. She doubted that Ash would deal with it at all, ever. Ashleigh Canie; Queen of repressed emotion "Alright everyone." Lydia said as though speaking to toddlers "Up you get. It's ten o'clock, we've had lie ins." Ashleigh, in reply to Lydia's wake-up call that was pretty tame compared to the way Ashleigh woke them if she was in a good mood, made several noises vaguely like a pterodactyl having sex with a walrus...Ok, I'm not good at analogies, but trust me, it was a weird noise. Lydia, used to these noises, just rolled her eyes at the laziness of both the others and then climbed onto the bed to gross Ashleigh out of bed "Jackson." She said softly and her boyfriend opened one eye to look at her "You gonna wake up for me?" She asked and then kissed him. Ashleigh made a disgruntled noise and turned away from them. Since this was actually common during sleepovers, such as to get her out of bed or to get her to grab some food for herself, Jackson knew to deepen the kiss and make soft humming and almost moans into it. It was a sleepy kiss and absolutely adorable out of context, but Ashleigh just made faked retching noises and Lydia laughed a bit. After a particularly moan-like noise, Ashleigh squealed 'ewwww' and got out of bed.  
"I get it, I get it, I'm up." She whined like a child and wobbly walked over to the en suite "Just...don't fuck on my bed until I'm downstairs and able to not hear it." Then she left the room into the en suite and locked the door. Lydia laughed softly and kissed Jackson very quickly before lying next to him. Their fingers laced together and Jackson sighed.  
"Why did we have to stay over?" He asked as though this was burdening him.  
"Jackson." Lydia said in an almost warning tone, knowing it was going to lead into an argument and therefore Ashleigh would hear it and have a panic attack or something. This was regular for the couple. Lydia had an almost maternal urge to look after Ashleigh since she was just a fragile baby bird in a big bird's body, so Lydia needed to fix her and nurture her and tend to her so that Ash grew up relatively un-fucked up. She knew that sometimes she pushed Jackson away so that she could look after her friend's frail emotions but she never meant to, it's just that she couldn't stand the idea of allowing her friend to suffer in silence. Jackson didn't get that, and they'd had several arguments where Ash had been the subject of it, but he almost always dealt with it and Lydia always made it up to him. If Lydia was focussing on something as devotedly as she does her schoolwork, it meant that it was very important to her so Jackson just went along with it.  
"I'm just saying." He sighed and Lydia rolled her eyes.  
"Her dad died yesterday." She pointed out and, while it was a pretty fucking good reason, Jackson had a counter for it like this was 'excuse tennis'.  
"She didn't even care about him." His girlfriend groaned.  
"We are not arguing about this. I wanted to make sure my friend was ok after finding her dad's dead body, alright?" Her hidden aggression seeped out slightly during the last few words and Jackson nodded his understanding. Then again, no matter how many times she told him, he always seemed to forget it just in time for her to try and do something for Ashleigh again. When Ash came back in, they pretended that everything was ok, not that she’d have noticed if there was a huge hole in her bedroom wall in her state. Ashleigh, when tired, could walk past a Star Wars style battle and not react. Actually, maybe not if it was Star Wars.

Each of the three got dressed, in separate rooms of course, and Ashleigh just lay on her bed with no real purpose nor intention of doing anything at all for the next…Few decades. She was wearing a pale yellow long-sleeved shirt and a black knee-length skirt with tights and her ever present beanie (red this time) pulled onto her head. If Lydia had any input in Ashleigh’s wardrobe, and if Ashleigh ever wore the things Lydia got her, there would be a large difference in what she was wearing at that point and every point in her life “What do ya wanna do today?” Ashleigh asked while she stared at the ceiling.  
“Whatever you want to do.” Lydia sighed from where she was sat on one of Ashleigh’s chairs in the bedroom. They didn’t know why she had so many chairs, since she didn’t spend time with that many people in her room, but they never asked because it never seemed important.  
“You don’t want to do what I want to do.” It wasn’t an accusation, more like a fact as though she was saying that what she wanted to do was not moralistic in the slightest and even **she** didn’t really want to do it.  
“What is it?” Jackson asked her and, just as Ashleigh opened her mouth to reply, there was a knock on the door. The three teens waited to hear Alice get up to answer it but, when she didn’t, Ashleigh groaned softly and got up.  
“I’ll be three minutes.” She sighed and then trudged out of her room and downstairs. The door to the Canie Mansion was as extravagant as everything Paul had designed. The whole house had been designed by Paul, to the last detail, and he’d paid quite a lot to have it built and have it perfect. Almost every room had a different floor texture, as well as being various heights and sizes with the doors to the downstairs areas quite large and dark with patterns carved into them of everything that Paul thought showed strength and pride. Ashleigh used to hate those carvings, but now that she was older she understood why each of them showed their certain thing; the eagle with strength and the shadow-creature with bravery. The locks thudded open and Ash dragged the doors apart so that she could see who the visitor was, hoping it wasn’t anyone who wanted to offer their condolences without truly knowing who Paul really was. The second that she saw the woman at the door, with someone else on either side of her, she stiffened as though she was a soldier in front of their superior. She’d never met the elder woman face-to-face, but Paul had insisted that Ashleigh know every main member of every local gang and mafia group so Ashleigh knew perfectly who she was. The stranger, who she knew, had black hair that fell to her shoulders and sparkling green eyes, sharp features that seemed both motherly and commanding, and she wore only very slight makeup that made her appear modest even while her life would give the impression that she wasn’t. Her two accomplices had similar black hair, the younger woman’s hair stopping just in mid-bicep while the man’s hair was spiked slightly, with almost the exact same green eyes though the younger woman’s were lighter. Ashleigh, the youngest of all four of them, would have felt incredibly intimidated if she didn’t know who her guests were and just what they were like.  
“Ashleigh, am I right?” The eldest said and Ashleigh nodded wordlessly “May we come in?” Again, the teen nodded without uttering a single word and moved aside for the others to enter. They were led by Ashleigh into the usual room for such visitors and Ash stood slightly nervously for a second or so.  
“I apologise, but I have friends in my room and I should tell them that you’re here.” The woman nodded in understanding and then Ashleigh scurried upstairs to her bedroom with just a soft urgency. Lydia and Jackson looked to her and saw the slightly worried look on her face “You have to go.” She said hurriedly and Lydia almost managed to refuse but Ashleigh wasn’t having any of it “I’m serious. One of Paul’s regular contacts is here and I need you to go because this is not a good place for you to be right now.” Before either of them had a chance to question it or try to object, Ashleigh was out of the room. It took her a second or so to compose her slight panic before she managed to go back downstairs and towards the meeting room. The other three turned to look at her and she smiled slightly nervously.

* * *

“Are you sure that she’s…capable?” Derek asked and both Laura and his mother gave him a look like he was an idiot “I’m serious. Sure, she’s his kid but she’s also _mental_.” Laura slapped him across the back of the head and he whined softly.  
“Laura.” Talia said sternly and then looked to her son “I’m sure that Ashleigh is capable. It’s just that no-one’s given her the chance.”  
“But, she’s…” He was given a look again, as though daring him to say she was crazy “She’s got difficulties.”  
“That can be managed with medicine.” Talia said. She knew about Ashleigh’s unwilling nature to take her pills, but the fact remained a fact nonetheless. Before Derek could retort with what they all knew, the door opened and Ashleigh walked back in. Talia, ever the mother to every lost soul she met, smiled at her almost sympathetically and then walked forwards “Ashleigh, I’m sorry for your father’s death.” Ashleigh’s nervous smile fell to a fake one of gratitude, though not a good one considering her talents.  
“Thank you, Mrs Hale.” She faked and then changed the subject as easily as one changes the program “I know that he was meant to be meeting you. Is that why’re you’re here?” This kid was smart, Derek thought, and kinda had a mind for the business that she would be taking over. News, especially through mafia networks, travels fast in Beacon Hills and always ends up going into the right ears, so Talia definitely knew that the leader of her allied force was going to be replaced by his daughter upon his death. They’d all known that for months, since Paul had written the letter to be given to Ashleigh. In a way, Derek felt sorry for the younger girl. They all did. She never wanted to be involved in the mafia, which is why they’d never met her, and yet she’d been pressured into it by her father’s even before his death and now the sudden reliance that the mafia had on her and her alone would possible pressure her too much and in the wrong way. She’d been building up to it since she was 8.  
“Why would you think that?” Talia asked with a small smile.  
“Because if it wasn’t about business, you wouldn’t have apologised for my father’s death even though everyone knows how much I despised him.” She crossed her arms and pouted softly "You're trying to be sensitive so that you don't offend me but **trust me** , you just offended me more." Derek seemed surprised, since he didn't expect her to be so suddenly annoyed. Talia nodded a bit.  
"Of course." She said and Ashleigh almost sighed “I suspect that they took Paul’s stuff.”  
“No, actually.” Ashleigh said and then walked over to the cupboard that Paul had in the meeting room. It was fancy, the handles dark and curving like snakes that would bite you if you came too close without good reason. She flung the doors open and took out one of the folders “If you want, I could take his place in the meeting. After all, I’m taking his place in every other aspect of my life.” Derek looked at his mother, wondering if she'd really let Ashleigh into this part of the background so soon. When she’d deemed her children ready to deal with the hardships of the full Mafia life, she’d thrown them headfirst into it. Laura had had to lead a small portion of the gang in a very minor mission they were on, Derek needed to host a meeting and Cora was…still building up to it. She was just a bit older than Ash, and Talia didn’t think she was ready yet. So, why would Talia think Ash was ready? The girl had been forced to be ready, literally the day before, but surely she wouldn’t truly be this prepared this early.  
“No, I’m sure that it’ll be ok.” Ashleigh’s face, while seeming to fall slightly, showed that she was relieved to not be involved just so soon “Is it ok if we take it?” Ashleigh nodded and then held it out. Derek walked forwards and took it before giving it to his sister and letting her deal with it.  
“You can stay a little longer if you want.” Ever the gracious host, Derek thought, and Talia pondered it for a second or so.  
“No, Ashleigh, we’re fine. We really must be going, more meetings to have.” Ashleigh nodded her understanding, since the Hales were always busy, and then nervously messed with her fingers before gesturing for the three of them to follow her. The door was dragged open again and the Hales were just about to leave before Talia stopped “Is there anyone here for you?” The eldest asked and Ashleigh hesitated.  
“M-My mom’s upstairs.” At Talia’s worry, which was evident, Ashleigh lowered her head. She knew what Talia meant. Was there anyone there that she wanted there, that she felt safe with? In actual fact, since Lydia and Jackson were gone and she didn’t want to embarrass herself by calling them back to keep her company again, there wasn’t. She may have hated her father, but that didn’t mean that she adored her mother. They were both the same; alcoholic, abusive, negligent, really just the people that made her rather than being her mom and dad. No-one ever heard how much Ashleigh hated Alice. She only called her ‘mom’ because that’s what good girls do; they call their mom ‘mom’ no matter what happens and if they have a crap father then it’s first name only “No, Miss Hale.” She admitted and Talia nodded before looking at her children. Derek wondered what she was thinking, though he wouldn’t know until she acted on it and even then probably wouldn’t properly know what she was thinking.  
“Derek, can you stay with Ashleigh?” Yep, he had no idea what she was thinking. He’d only just met Ashleigh, not said two words to her, and yet his mom wanted him to stay with her practically alone in the house. Then again, if Talia thought it was a good idea then it was probably a good idea even if it sounded stupid.  
“Uh, yea, sure.” The young man said and looked at Ashleigh. Ash looked very briefly at him before she looked to her feet in a very sudden change to meek and mild and harmless.  
“Ok then.” Talia smiled “We’ll be off. Derek, I’ll call you when I need you.” Derek nodded his understanding and they said goodbyes.

The door didn’t thud an echo as it closed behind them, leaving the middle-Hale and the Canie child in silence. It took a bit for either of them to move or speak and it was Ashleigh, lifting her head and looking at Derek “Would you like some food? I’m, um…I was planning on making something anyway.” She said awkwardly and Derek hesitated before answering.  
“If you’re sure it’s no bother.” Ash smiled sweetly, still nervous and awkward and not really wanting to be social with a fellow Mafia child.  
“Of course not. I…I always feel like I have to offer food to any guests anyway.” She laughed awkwardly and then walked off to the kitchen with Derek behind her. The staff, such as chefs and cleaners, weren’t in after the tragedy on the orders of a surprisingly composed Ashleigh. The kitchen was as extravagant as every other part of the house and seemed more like a resteraunt kitchen, but the two of them had walked through it before Derek could absorb any more details. The room he was instead led to looked more humble and normal, with a soft-blue tile pattern on the walls and a white floor. Not a single word was spoken between them as Ashleigh cooked. It was so quiet that they could hear the animals outside the house, and the occasional sound of water through the pipes, as well as the soft patter when Alice finally left her room and came downstairs. When the footsteps neared the room Derek and Ashleigh were in, the teen girl tenced up and stopped all movement but quickly relaxed slightly when she heard the fridge open and a clank of glass bottles. The fridge in the larger kitchen closed and Alice walked away, Ashleigh exhaling shakily with the sounds.

Derek felt sorry for her. What child can be scared of her family, while also worrying about them, and not explode from the contradiction? Well, Ashleigh can, so that must mean a crazy child. Because, no matter how you painted it, Ashleigh was crazy. She wasn't dangerous or manic, but she was crazy and unstable and...She may become dangerous later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weak ending, I know. Writer's block loves me, it seems. I'm trying, you gotta give me credit for that.


	6. It Can't Exactly Get Better Either

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Derek and Ashleigh get closer, a development is made in Paul's case.

Ashleigh, for all the times that Paul had said publically that she was lazy and worthless, seemed to be very used to cooking for herself and was pretty good. It wasn't much, just rice, but they didn't have any packets so Ash had to flavour it from scratch "You're pretty good at cooking, aren't you?" Derek asked and Ashleigh looked at him in confusion for just a second and then laughed nervously, ducking her head.  
"Uh, yea, I guess." She shrugged "I eat at weird times, an' I don't like to bother the cooks so I do it myself." The brunette, when it was finished, scooped the rice into two bowls and got two spoons, handing one bowl and spoon to Derek.  
"Why don't you eat with your mom?" Derek asked and Ashleigh looked down to her food.  
"Well...She's hardly home, and I was never around Paul either so I just got used to having my own eating routine, on my own."  
"Do you ever have friends over?" Ash nodded.  
"They never stay long." She mumbled "And I don't have, uh, good eating habits when they're here anyway." Derek nodded his understanding. When he was her age, not that he was too much older than Ash, he used to have his friends over and they used to eat their weight in sugar and junk food.  
"How are you so skinny then?" Derek joked and Ashleigh laughed weakly, starting to pick at her food to avoid answering. They stood slightly awkwardly in the kitchen for a bit until Ashleigh spoke again.  
"Do you want to go anywhere else? Like, the living room?"  
"Depends on **you**." Ashleigh shrugged a bit and put a few grains of rice into her mouth.  
"Living room's cool. We've got a big TV. Like, _scary_ big." She then led Derek to the living room. On the way, Derek got a taste for what Paul was like.

The entire way there was filled with extravagancy; marble on the walls, the painting frames were wooden with golden flecks in the corners, the floor was perfectly polished with hardly any scuffs on it, pure-copper figures of animals, guns put on display for almost no reason other than to look cool, antiques and priceless paintings around with seemingly no purpose. Derek'd never been in the house long enough to properly absorb any character by the surroundings but now he knew. Paul was so pretentious that Derek couldn't help but feel sorry for Ash because she had to live with such a narcissist. They entered the living room, just as decorated as the rest of the house, and Ashleigh instantly turned the television on.  
_"-who was a huge figure of wealth and stability in the community, was reported dead yesterday."_ The reporter said and Ashleigh's face fell at the sight of her father's picture on TV. Instantly, she turned to a different channel. There was a sitcom that would serve as good background noise while they ate, since Ash was sure that she wouldn't be talking to him.  
"I don't even **know** why it's always on the bloody news when we turn it on. I'm the only one who watches it, an' Mom was the last one in here." The teen mumbled and sat nervously on the very edge of her chair while Derek did the same. He was polite as he ate the rice, which was pretty damn good, but Ashleigh just ate slowly and awkwardly in silence.  
"Do you have many friends?" Derek asked at one point of the silence, making Ashleigh ponder it for a second. She had Lydia and, by proxy, Jackson, but she didn't really have anyone else. Her life had revolved around her father's mafia status, limiting the amount of friends she could have. Lydia was the one friend she had, because Lydia was the one major 'fuck you' that Ashleigh said to Alice. If Alice had her way, Ashleigh would be in absolute solitude with her only socialisation being her grandparents and her therapist. Maybe not even her grandparents, but Xia and Lucas Canie are forces to be reckoned with when refused access to their one and only grandchild. Paul, strangely, had stuck up for Ashleigh and supported her friendship with the redhead. She never found out why, but she didn't really mind. That was one of the handful of times that Paul semed to care.  
"No." Ash said, hardly really speaking as always yet only just audible, and Derek frowned just slightly "Only Lydia Martin, and her boyfriend kinda. No-one really wants to talk to the child of the most sadistic gang leader in all of Beacon Hills." Derek nodded a bit in understanding.  
"Sorry ta hear that." Derek sighed and Ashleigh laughed just softly.  
"Not as much as I am. Sometimes I just think that I'd be better off in Alabama with my grandparents. Paul's parents not mom's, they live somewhere in Oregon. I was **born** in Alabama, which…you’d never guess." She continued to pick at her food, playing with a few grains occasionally by pushing them about with the back of her spoon. She was right though, you’d never have guessed she was born in Alabama. Paul had moved over to Beacon Hills when Ash was three, old enough to have slightly picked up the accent that her father had, but she sounded like she’d been in Beacon Hills her whole life. Derek just guessed that she hid the accent so that she wasn’t even more different. They, again, sat in silence for a while until Derek broke it again.  
"Tell me about your friend Lydia." He said and Ashleigh exhaled slowly.  
"I, uh...She's my only friend, the only one I've ever had. We met in freshman year, she already knew who my dad was and what happens with us but she didn't care." She seemed to be, when talking about Lydia, much more comfortable as a smile went on her face "Most of my good memories have Lydia in them. Almost all of them, other than with Grammy and Grampy. She's the only one who's ever listened to my inane rambles about everything from dugongs to baseball shirts."  
"Dugongs?" Derek asked with a small amused smile and Ashleigh laughed a bit as she nodded.  
"Also called SeaCows, sailors used to mistake them for humanoid creatures which is why we get the myth of mermaids. They're impossibly ugly and slow. Not the worst looking creature of the sea though. Blob fish, I think, are the worst. Like female angler fish but not as active or predatory."  
"You know a lot about fish?" Ashleigh shook her head.  
"Not in the slightest. I just absorb useless bullshit from everywhere." She looked at Derek for the first time since they'd entered the room, a small smile gracing her sweet face, but then looked quickly away again.

* * *

"Are you sure we should have left him there mom?" Laura asked and Talia nodded.  
"Not a single doubt in my mind. He's capable of looking after Ashleigh."  
"It's not Ashleigh I'm worried about." The younger woman said with a frown and Talia looked at her with a bit of confusion.  
"Ash wouldn't hurt Derek."  
"But would Alice?" Talia looked away with a small understanding nod. Alice Johnson could certainly be very destructive when she wanted to be, just ask the shattered Disney statuettes that Ashleigh used to have.  
"I doubt Ashleigh would let her."

* * *

Almost ten minutes after both of them had finished their rice, Derek was stood outside the bathroom while Ashleigh was inside throwing up. She'd been in there for three minutes and Derek was seriously worried about her because that's a long time to be vomiting. He knocked twice "Hey, Ash? You ok in there?"  
"I'll be ok." The teen said, slightly strained "Might jus' be ill." Derek nodded in understanding, because he'd heard that Ash is very easily ill, and sighed as he leant against the doorframe. A minute or two later, Alice’s' bedroom door opened and she stumbled out.  
"Who're you?" She asked when she saw Derek.  
"Derek Hale, Miss Johnson."  
"Talia's son, right?" Alice asked, making Derek nod "Do you know where the girl is?" Derek pointed towards the door where Ashleigh's violent vomiting could be heard, making Alice sigh. She drunkenly walked towards the door and knocked roughly with a tightly closed fist "Stop showing our family up all the time, you bulimic sack of shit." She called in.  
"Love you too mom!" Ashleigh called back casually.  
"You're a fucking disappointment."  
"Thanks mom, I'll go cut my throat now!"  
"Do it properly this time." Then Alice stumbled off downstairs, leaving a very shocked Derek behind her. After the vomiting stopped, Derek could hear crying so knocked softly.  
"Ash?" She didn't reply, but she seemed to hold the sobs back, Derek just opened the door and saw Ashleigh curled up beside the toilet, crying her eyes out. He walked over and sat beside her, stroking his hand through her hair "She's a bitch, huh?" He mumbled and Ashleigh scoffed a small laugh that turned into another sob.  
"You ain't seen the worst of it." She exhaled shakily.  
"I haven't?" Ash thought about it for a second before nodding softly.  
"Actually, you probably have." She shrugged "Doesn't get much worse than her telling me to kill myself _properly_." A few tears slipped from her eyes but she quickly wiped them away "Y-You should probably get going, actually. I'll be fine."  
"My mom would castrate me if I left before she told me to." Ash laughed softly and Derek smiled just a bit "Ya wanna do anything?"  
"No." Ash breathed, closing her eyes.  
"You sure?" Ashleigh looked around the bathroom, which was scarily spacious, and then nodded once.  
"I just need to go to my bedroom." She muttered and then stood up with help from Derek. He guided her softly to her room, despite her saying multiple times that she was a big girl, Derek, she could fucking walk. Derek insisted and he guided her to her room. She sat on her bed with Derek on one of the chairs nearby, messing with her fingers.

"Are you ok?" Derek asked after a second and Ashleigh nodded with a very slight smile that was obviously faked.  
“Yea, I’m fine. Mum’s just a bit…She’s not doing good.” She shrugged a bit and looked at her hands “She loved Paul, a lot. Almost too much, I guess. She’d do anything for him, she’d forgive any little thing he did.”  
“Like what?” Derek asked, which made Ashleigh shake her head instantly.  
“No offence to you or your family, Derek, but I don’t trust you enough.” Derek nodded his understanding and Ashleigh laughed softly at her own thought “You need to reach friendship level 10 before you unlock my tragic backstory.” Derek laughed just slightly, though the atmosphere killed that laugh quickly.

* * *

The bullet wasn't from Paul's gun, it wasn't a suicide.  
Anyone who knew Paul could have called that but they just needed the forensic evidence to prove it.

Yet another voicemail request. John had never had an easy time contacting mafia members, but you'd expect that they'd want to help after their leader had died. It wasn't as though they truly cared for him, he was just their boss. Without them, they just wouldn't really get much done until they got a new leader.

A new leader. He'd gone through all possibilities to try and figure out which sorry SOB would fill Paul's throne, but none made sense. Paul may not have been a family man but he was a selfish man who would never hand his legacy to someone who wasn't like family to him. He had no-one that he considered family; no friends, no brothers, no workmates. And Alice didn't make sense because he thought of her as weak after all the times she'd 'wimped out' on his jobs for her. But Ashleigh. Ashleigh made sense; she was his daughter, Paul knew she wasn't afraid because she had actually harmed him once, she was always the secret one who never gave away any secrets of the gang no matter how much she knew and how much she hated her father, she admitted that even she didn’t trust herself because of how manipulative she was. She’d done the Job he wanted her to do. But it was Ash.  
To try and get an idea of who could have killed Paul, John was doing a list of the people who hated him the most. It was going to be a long list, and none of the people on it would be a surprise. He’d just started it so this is how it went so far.

 _1._ Gerard Argent-Leader of Argent Family  
2\. Kate Argent-Most loyal of Gerard's children  
3\. Ashleigh Canie-Mentally Unstable Daughter  
4\. Camron King-Son of Ana and Graham, protective over Ashleigh since the 'incident'  
5\. Olson Family-Shamed by Paul after Jake (then 14) refused to join  
6\. Chris Argent-Gerard's son, dubious yet still hated Paul

These were the people who hated him, but not all of them had the opportunity to do it. Gerard Argent didn’t get his hands dirty often, and why would he bother killing Paul directly? Kate, though willing to do anything her father says, hadn't been in Beacon Hills for a while because of ‘business’ she needed to do elsewhere. And Ashleigh was at school. Camron was an impulsive man, and he wouldn't waste time making it look like a suicide. The Olsons also hadn't been in Beacon Hills for almost a year after Paul had ruined their good name. As for Chris, John knew him and knew that he wasn't the type to do a hit like that. They were quite close, and civil, so he knew quite a bit about the man.  
So who? Still, to do it the logical way, he had another questioning with Alice the next day to try and help figure it out. She was somewhere on that list, but wasn't top 10 because she seemed to love him so much. Stiles had actually helped a lot in making the list, keeping every angle in mind. He seemed more set on the Argents, but did have the idea that it may have been a frustrated Ashleigh who then panicked and made up a slightly believable lie. Ash was emotionally unstable, but John wasn’t convinced that her mental state would have been 1) that bad that she’d actually kill Paul and 2)If it was that bad, she wouldn’t have had the mental capability to make up such a quick lie. He knew Ash, had done for a while, so he knew what she was capable of and knew what she could handle emotionally.

Or did he?


	7. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hales get back to business as Ash hides herself from reality and Alice has a revelation.

Derek was hesitant to leave Ashleigh alone in that house, with her mother, but he had to go back home eventually. So he gave Ash his number just in case she wanted someone sat quietly with her. He didn't say to talk to because she doesn't like talking much, silence is a blanket for her apparently. Almost instantly after he'd left her, he got a text from Ashleigh. Just a 'Hey, this is Ash, not a stalker' followed quickly by 'Though I could be both' with the eyeballs emoji. Derek had chuckled and shook his head gently before he shot back 'Stalk me all you want, I'm not that interesting'. It didn't even take two minutes for her reply 'More interesting than me, Der-bear.' He kinda felt insulted for her, because he thought she was actually very interesting and was much more than she seemed, but they had only just met and he didn't want to be so blunt that early on so he just pocketed his phone until he had an idea what to reply with. When he entered his house, he called out for his mom who came out instantly to greet him with a fervent hug and a kiss on his cheek. He returned both displays of affection with equal joy before his mom pulled away "How's Ashleigh?" She asked instantly and Derek smiled. He didn't mind her well-being as his mother's first worry, he actually expected it. After all, the whole reason he was left at the Canie place was to make sure that she wouldn't self-destruct.  
"When I left, she was fine. Watching TV and painting." He reassured and Talia seemed quite relieved. She knew that Derek wouldn't lie about something so important, even though he didn't know why it was so important to her, and he wouldn't leave Ash if she was in danger of harming herself. Again.  
"And Alice?" Talia asked, leading him by the arm to her office "Did you see her?" Derek nodded once with a sigh.  
"She was in her room for most of it, drunk as hell."  
"But you saw her."  
"Yea. She, uh...she didn't help much." With a frown, Talia sat down and opened Paul's folder, not wanting Derek to go into specifics. He wouldn't anyway, just so he didn't worry her "Probably ruined a bit of the progress, I guess."  
"But Ash has your number, in case she wants you?" Derek nodded and Talia sighed in relief "Good. Can you get Laura, please? We have to go through Paul's notes." Derek then stood and walked to where he knew Lara would be waiting, in the library with her laptop on her knees and her earbuds in.

"Laur." Derek said, pushing her leg slightly when she didn't react, making her jump and look at him in shock. She pulled her earbuds out almost violently and glared at him "Mom wants us. Paul's folder." Laura nodded, locking her laptop and leaving it on her chair as she stood. She followed after her younger brother, a frown on her face.  
"It doesn't feel right." She sighed "I mean... He wasn't a nice guy, frankly he was a bastard, but he can't be-" The girl sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes "-he can't be dead." Derek nodded silently, knowing exactly what she meant. Paul was a fighter, he owned every room he walked into (sometimes literally), no-one could imagine him ever dying in anything but fire and glory. Men with his power don't just die quietly in their offices or in their sleep unless their life has been fulfilled, they don't have anything less than a ceremony for their funeral. But it seemed that Paul was one exception, burning out like a match rather than the star they all believed him to be. No supernova left behind, no black hole to destroy his enemies and friends alike. All he did was fade into oblivion, all alone in his office.  
"I know." Derek sighed as they left into the main corridor.  
"And, poor Ash. I know that you think she's not right, but she's gonna be a whole lot more not right now her Dad's dead."  
"Not even mentioning the fact that she's got to take over from him." Derek added, opening the door for Laura to enter the office. Talia was openly pondering something, which worried Derek and Laura slightly. Derek was sure that she'd do something weird based on what she'd seen from Ashleigh, while Laura was just worried anyway because her mother never looked so internally torn while thinking before "Mom?" Derek asked, making Talia look at him "Are you ok?" Talia nodded.  
"Yea, I'm fine." She smiled "Just...Thinking." Though unconvinced, Derek and Laura had long since accepted that they just take what their mother says as gospel. Unlike Alice, she cared enough to lie to her children if it won't hurt them. Alice apparently didn't have that wired into her mind. The children sat in front of her and Talia sighed as she opened the folder to the first page "Now. His plans." And they prepared themselves for some nonsensical tirade against the Argents, as always.

* * *

  _"So...Lydia's weird friend is-"_  
"-The child of the guy in the feud with the Argents, yea." Stiles said hurriedly, morbidly excited "And he died yesterday. Shot in the head." Scott sighed.  
_"You really shouldn't be telling me this."_ He reminded his friend, but Stiles just dismissed it with a wave of his hand that Scott couldn't see.  
"You haven't heard the best part though."  
_"Dude, he was murdered."_ Scott said and Stiles frowned, because that was his line.  
"Dude." He sighed.  
_"What, it's obvious. He's been hated by the Argents for years, for some reason, so they finally did him in."_ Stiles rolled his eyes, mind still caught in the thrill of possibility for a twist that we all know won't come.  
"What if it was his kid though?" Stiles insisted, evoking a groan from Scott "Don't do that, man. This guy was a dick. He beat his girlfriend, he hit Ash around, he's killed his own dudes before. Like, seriously. Plus, she's tried to kill him before." There was what Stiles wanted, that reaction from Scott. Stunned silence, only the sound of his shocked breaths through the phone, and a smile spread across Stiles' face.  
_"Seriously?"_ Stiles 'mhm'd and grinned. It was coming up just like a murder book, with endless possibilities and a suspect list a mile long. Like a game of Clue  _"Stiles, you're morbid."_  
"What, how?" Stiles whined in what seemed to be a feeling of betrayal by Scott.  
_"Someone's died, you're getting excited."_  
"Well, it's exciting." Stiles pointed out "And don't pretend that you're totally uninterested." Scott sighed softly.  
_"Alright."_ Stiles laughed _"Maybe just a bit. But seriously, you're acting like it's a game."_  
"You're just grumpy that nothing exiting happens to you." Scott fake gasped.  
_"Plenty happens to me, go fuck yourself."_ He joked and Stiles smiled widely, going to his window.  
"You coming over?"  
_"Always."_ Scott said with a smile in his voice  _"Just don't be mentioning the case and getting a murder boner over it."_ Stiles laughed.  
"I don't get murder boners."  
_"Sure, Stiles, sure."_ Then, with a kind-hearted 'Fuck you' and exchanged goodbyes, the boys hung up. Stiles turned to his pin-board with a sigh. He didn't have all the information, or pictures of most suspects, but he had hand-drawn many pictures of people and pinned them to the board with motives scattered around. His dad had warned him ages ago about that sort of thing, he used to do it a lot, but this was a huge case and would be a tough one to solve so Stiles thought that his classic and cliche method would maybe help to solve it. Scott wouldn't approve of having a murder chart in the room, but he'd just joke about it before they got down to playing.

Maybe, Stiles thought, he should get closer to the case than his father would allow. But the only ways he could would be so morally ambiguous that he felt guilty just thinking about it. He'd have to try and get close to Ashleigh, be her friend, and try to figure out if she's capable of harming her dad. He felt like she was more than everyone expected, but he'd have to be closer in order to prove it.

* * *

Ash had stared at her phone for five minutes after her last message to Derek, giving up after that when he didn't reply. She was sure that she'd messed up, that her mind had made her really put her foot in it this time, so her phone was abandoned on the table beside her and she turned back to her painting. When Derek had asked what she was painting, she had shrugged because she really didn't know what her mind would come up with. She didn't think that she was a good painter, but she never thought that she was a good anything. No-one but Lydia had ever seen her paintings. They were always either nature, some slightly copied from videos of The Joy of Painting, or ultra-surreal macabre manifestations of her thoughts. She had started the painting by accident, the almost abandoned easel in the corner calling out to her after Derek had calmed her down. Now, with more of her painting done, she had an idea what it would be. It was going to be Paul, or a version of him, before his death. She didn't know exactly what it would look like, but she would allow her hand to flow across the fabric as though possessed by some force of evil artist who used her pain as fuel for its own sick strength. But thinking about it would ruin the natural and graceful freedom of it all, so she delicately put the paintbrush down and put her earbuds in before she allowed [dark music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdIYVXCfrQM) to swim into her ears. There was once a time where she would be anxious about allowing herself to listen to music with both her parents in the house, waiting to hear them argue so she could try to stop it and end up being either yelled at or hit. She never knew why she stood in earshot, or why she tried to intervene. She had been caught in a sick loop of horror, endlessly tortured with the actions of her parents yet always believing she could end the cycle.

A smile crossed her face at the thought. She was now free from it, and free to listen to her music. With how her mind was controlling her macabre art, the music fit perfectly. She never once thought about the next stroke of the brush or the shapes that her hand was creating. She was officially lost in the painting and had escaped from the world that she had once dramatically thought had a vendetta against her. The occasional drop of paint on her clothes didn't disturb her, she was too used to the mess and the following screech of her mother about how much those clothes cost. Ash would always laugh and shout that it wasn't like they couldn't afford more. All of Ash's clothes had some form of 'ruin' from paint, other than her hats, but she really didn't mind. She was briefly distracted by her phone chiming, dropping her brush and taking her phone up from the table at her side to check the message. It was Lydia, asking if everything was okay, so a quick affirmative was sent, along with an order for Lydia to just have fun and not think about Ash. She'd been asked to a little gathering that **totally** wasn't a party at all, and Ash had also gotten invited but she could tell that it was because of Lydia that she was asked. No-one just asked her because they liked her; they asked her out of fear of her father or because of her connection to Lyd. She was a sidenote, which is just how she liked it really. Never the centre of attention or anyone's first thought. A lingering whisper in the back of her mind told her that she only liked it that way because she'd gotten used to it thanks to her quiet nature and the near neglect of her parents, but that was stamped down quickly. The next thought was that she would now be centre of attention, as the new leader, and goddamn if she wasn't going to do as she'd always done and delay those responsibilities until totally necessary. Her front of vengeance and anger was just for the members, so they didn't feel lost like she was. She shook her head almost violently to dispel the thoughts, putting her phone back down and grabbing her brush again with a twirl, sending dots of paint flying across the room.  With a deep sigh, casting a longing look at her phone for some reason before she looked back at the already gruesome painting. She wished, for once, she could be pathetic and normal and a daft fool with no clue. The demon painter took over her hand yet again and allowed the paint to glide across the canvas.

She liked this life so much more when she was little. She loved running around the house, her long-suffering nanny following after her while she shrieked in childish joy. Before Lydia, she had Kylie. Kylie is the elder cousin of Jake, about Ashleigh's age, and she joined Ash in running about and playing extreme hide-and-seek until they were teenagers. Lydia had been friends with Kylie as well, just as heartbroken when Paul had used all his power to ensure Kylie and her family could never come back as long as he was alive. This life was perfect when she was little, when she had yet to discover every hidey-hole that the house had to offer, when simply running would entertain her for hours. She doesn't remember when it all lost its appeal but it was probably around the time that she first heard Paul and Alice yelling at each other at the main entrance. She'd ran out of whatever room she'd been hiding in, screamed at them to stop it, had hidden from Alice when the argument had ended. She knew every hidey-hole, she had spent hours in each. Closing her eyes tightly, she willed the music to replace her thoughts so that she didn't cry in grief over her destroyed childhood.

* * *

Alice was still in her room, though not even trying to sleep. She was looking through her pictures and the letters that Paul had sent her in their early relationship. There were the images of Paul and Alice together, during dates and parties and the happy moments where Paul would just take random pictures of her just because he felt like it. She smiled around the bottle, tears welling in her eyes, as she tried to memorise his face like she should have done years ago. He was very handsome, right up until the end. His eyes were a deep green and able to charm anyone that he wanted, his smile and laugh capable of brightening up the room when they were honest, with such delicate fingers. He used to play with her hair late at night, used to caress her face too soft for it to even tickle, used to whisper to her until she fell asleep. Sure, he had his moments but so did she. They didn't love each other any less because of their rough times, no matter how bad it got. She came to a picture of her in the hospital, a day after Ashleigh was born. There was a glow about her, one that she never thought she'd possessed, and she was just looking at Ashleigh with no notice of the camera pointed at her. With furrowed brows, she wondered who had even taken that picture. It can't have been Paul, he'd left her there for a day after the birth, so who was it? Soon after wondering that, Alice frowned because she couldn't remember holding Ash like that. She remembered hardly anything from the child's early life, since her time was taken up with friends and Paul's gang, and her drunken mind convinced her to go to Ashleigh's room. So, on uneven footing, she stood from her chair and left the grand bedroom to set off down to Ashleigh's. They'd had Ash's room on the floor below them, the same floor as the library, so that she could be left in peace. Normally, Alice would have told one of their staff to get Ash but they were all off for the day due to 'traumatising circumstances' so she had to go down and knock on Ashleigh's door herself. When there was no answer, Alice opened the door softly and saw her daughter.

She hadn't been in Ashleigh's room for years, since her ballet obsession at the age of 11 when Ash practically forced her and Paul to watch her dance. She was good, amazing. Alice had no idea what made her quit on the idea, or what Ashleigh's new thing was, so she was slightly surprised. The room looked almost totally different from the last time, but she didn't remember getting someone to redecorate. The colour of the walls was no longer a dark green that was slightly darker than Paul's eyes -the same colour as Ashleigh's- but was instead a pastel peach, with the posters of musicals and ballet dancers replaced with canvases covered with beautifully realistic valleys and mountains. Her furniture had been moved around, and she had things that Alice didn't even know had been purchased. The carpet was the same, and her room was immaculately clean. The curtains were wide open, flooding the room with sunlight and putting a natural spotlight on Ashleigh, who was sat practically in the middle of the room with a partially finished canvas in front of her. She was humming a song, oblivious to the entire world, as Alice almost nervously approached her. Since this was a time for revelations from Alice, she saw just how similar Ashleigh looked to Paul. The same eye colour, though unseen at that moment, and the same hair colour. She had Paul's thin fingers, which were now curled around the brush with a familiarity that showed years of painting which Alice hadn't picked up on, and it seemed that the only thing that she seemed to visually get from Alice was her deep freckles, which Alice always had covered by her makeup.

Four steps away from her daughter, Alice sighed "Ashleigh." She said softly, though Ash obviously didn't hear her due to the music. Another step forwards, and she spoke louder "Ashleigh." Yet again, no answer, and Alice was about ready to give up and leave. The voice of her mother came to her, an echo from years ago, telling her that Ashleigh needs her and that if she doesn't have a relationship with her then Ash will hate her for the rest of her life. So, with another step towards her, Alice reached out and pressed her fingertips to Ash's shoulder. Ash jumped, almost squeaking in fear as she dropped her brush onto her lap, tugged her headphones off and her hand went instantly to her thigh. When she saw it was Alice, she sighed and relaxed with a slight frown.  
"What is it?" She sighed. Alice hesitated. What was it that she wanted to say? Why had she come in? She said the first thing that came into her mind, after Ash pulled an impatient face.  
"I''m sorry." Ash rolled her eyes, picked up her brush and turned away from her mother.  
"I know, mom." Alice wasn't satisfied with that, because she knew that Ash wasn't taking her seriously.  
"No, Ash, I mean it." Again, without looking away from her canvas, Ash sighed.  
"I know, mom." She said again, more emphasised and seeming exasperated. For a good reason, Alice was sure. She'd apologised for nonsense before when drunk, too many times to count, and Ash always had the same responses. Clenching her fists, Alice frowned and closed her eyes tightly.  
"Ashleigh." She said forcefully, shocking her into turning around and looking at Alice. When Alice opened her eyes again, she saw how confused Ash was that Alice seemed insistent.  
"Mom." Putting the paintbrush down, Ashleigh turned properly on her stool and looked properly at her mom, no contempt in her eyes for once. Alice felt her eyes prick with tears, unprovoked, and exhaled shakily.  
"I'm sorry, Ashie." She whimpered pathetically and Ashleigh stood, though nervous and unsure of her actions "I'm so sorry."  
"What for, mom?" Alice couldn't speak, her tears choking each word before it even formed in her throat. Ash touched her mother's forearms in minimalist comfort "Why are you sorry?"  
"I should have..." She sobbed again, moving to hug Ashleigh. Ash closed her eyes, resting her head against Alice's shoulder, and exhaled softly "I've been such a shit mom, Ashie." Ash didn't come to her mom's defence, just wrapped her arms around the elder and listened "I was just scared." Her tears started to dampen Ashleigh's shirt, though the younger didn't mind and instead stayed close to her mother "I was so young and I didn't want a kid, but Paul did and I'd do anything for him." Ashleigh nodded a few times, stroking her hand through her mom's light hair "But I should have stepped up. I should have just raised you properly, like my mom said." Though drunk, Alice knew that all this was true. She should have been better so Ash didn't turn out in a bad way, but it was too late now. She knew that Ash had been ruined, that was proven to her by the gun attached to the teen's thigh and the therapist notes and the bottles of pills (hardly touched due to her self-destruction) that were hiding in the bedside table drawer "Maybe if I'd done my job, your dad would still be alive." Ash pulled away with a deep frown, her rare comfort around her mother suddenly being locked away again.  
"What do you mean?" She asked with instant suspicion but Alice just tried to move back into the hug but Ashleigh held her hands out and made sure Alice wouldn't get closer "Tell me."  
"Ash." Alice pleaded, because this was her child and she needed to pretend that Ash loved her just for a few more minutes.  
"Fucking tell me." She said sternly, as sharp as a slap in the face.  
"I know you did it." Ash looked confused, like she knew what Alice meant but she didn't want to believe what she was hearing.  
"I did what?" She asked softly, a whisper really.  
"I forgive you, baby, I do. I know what you were feeling and I know you-"   
"-What do you think I did?" Alice frowned softly.  
"You killed your dad." Ash laughed in shock, moving away "But I understand why you did it, Ashie-"  
"-I'm not a fucking killer." Ash said angrily "I fucking hate him, I really do, but I'm better than him because I would never fucking kill someone."  
"It's me, princess, you don't have to lie to me." Alice pleaded and Ashleigh snapped around to look at her.  
"You think so little of me? You really know so little about me that you think I'm capable of killing?" Alice walked over with an apology ready to fall from her pathetically quivering lips "I know I threatened him but I was never strong enough to do it." She pushed Alice's hands off her when her mother tried to pull her over for another hug "Get out." She ordered, obviously trying to suppress the urge to scream.  
"Ashleigh, please." Alice reached out and stroked her face, though Ashleigh quickly slapped Alice's hand away from her.  
"Get **out** of my **fucking** room!" She yelled, her face turning into pure anger and hatred that scared Alice so much that she almost ran backwards out of the room though instead just stumbled away a few steps.  
"Baby I'm sorry, I didn't mean any-"  
"I said get  **out!**  Why are you still here?! Get the fuck out!" She ended the final sentence as a scream, making Alice hurry out with Ash following close behind so she could slam the door closed as Alice left.

She kicked the door, for emphasis, and stormed over to her stool and easel. When she saw it, she shook her head and sighed heavily. Her Grampy Lucas always told her that you should never do something you love when you're angry, because doing it with anger too many times makes you start to hate it. So she took up her phone again and, after debating on texting Lydia back (She wouldn't want to burden Lyd with more Canie shit) or Derek (She hardly knew the guy, he wasn't a real friend) or even Jackson (She'd messaged him only when him and Lyd had broken up or when she couldn't reach Lydia), she put her headphones back on and did her usual tricks to calm down. Absently scratching the back of her hand, she lay down on her bed and hoped that she wouldn't fall asleep. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was the partially done painting of Paul, the darkness expanding as she closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to finish, but I did it! Yey me.


End file.
